


The Boys from Nowhere

by Crystalshard



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Alternate Universe - Theatre, Angst, Dancing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Cream, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalshard/pseuds/Crystalshard
Summary: Update: Four new drabbles!Din suffers from a minor accident.Din is an awkward third wheel.A disguise clashes with Corin's military-taught standards of appearance.The child develops a new Force power.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 124





	1. Sing, Swing, Sing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corin dances like nobody's watching, but Din sees.

Din's helmet light picked out another fallen branch, and he heard small animals skittering in the trees above as he moved to add it to the pile he already carried. No sound of anything bigger, no AT-STs among the tall trees or any roar of ships in the night sky. Their target was securely behind the city's locked gates until dawn, and it made better tactical sense to wait for him to come out rather than fight past city security to retrieve him. 

All was quiet as Din turned back towards their camp. 

Or . . . not so quiet.

 _". . . cross the galaxy to find you, when all the stars ignite, I'll be there in the morning if you'll be here tonight."_

Din froze, watching Corin's body flex to the rhythm of the song, outlined in flickering firelight. The child chortled in glee and clapped as Corin took a moment to stir the stew, lifting the spoon up to test the taste. 

Seemingly satisfied, Corin gave the pot another stir and slid back into his improvised dance. Din couldn't take his eyes away from the snap of Corin's hips, the clean movement that was everything and nothing like how Corin moved in combat. _"We're speeding up to hyperspace on flesh and blood alone, you're everything I dream of but nothing I can own -"_

Corin's song broke off abruptly as a half-spin brought him around to face Din, where he stood immobile on the edge of the clearing like a yearling shil-deer. Din tried to force words past his locked throat, but all he managed was a strangled noise that his helmet likely muted. 

Even as Din mourned the loss of the relaxed Corin of a few moments ago, Corin opened his mouth. "Look, I'm sorry. I should have been looking after the stew, it won't happen again, I promise -" 

The firewood clattered to the ground as Din let it drop, unheeding in his need to get to Corin. "Wait. No. I liked it. The singing, the dancing. Please." Din cleared his throat, wrapping his hands over Corin's shoulders. "After we eat, maybe you could . . . do that again?" 

"I'm not very good," Corin demurred. "But, sure." 

"Looked good from where I was standing," Din assured him.


	2. Support System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din catches a cold, Corin is more competent than he thinks.

"No," Corin said firmly, putting one hand on Din's chest and shoving him back into the pile of pillows. " _I_ am going to meet our contact, she knows both of us. _You_ are going to stay in bed and work on getting better." 

"I'm fi - _achoo!_ " 

"One, that's my line. Two, no you're not. Three, take that medication I brought, it'll stop you sneezing inside your helmet. Drink some water. It's your turn to look after the kid for a change." 

Even with the helmet on, Din looked miserable. The bounty hunter had caught a mild virus on their last planetfall, and while he'd got them here, Corin had had to take over for the actual landing because Din's hands were shaking too much. It had been Corin who'd spoken to their contact over the comm link, Corin who'd found them lodging, bought medicine, and made sure that the three of them were fed. Now, it was Corin's turn to get the job done. 

". . . okay," Din muttered, sounding as if his sinuses were well and truly congested. 

Poor Din, he really must be sick if he was giving in that easily. Corin leaned over and pressed his forehead to Din's helmet, his fingers combing gently through the sweaty strands at the back of Din's neck. "Rest, ner kar'ta. I'll be back soon." 

Din hummed something that sounded like assent, and Corin impulsively pressed his lips to the top of Din's helmet before leaving the room. 

* * *

It had taken Din longer than he wanted to admit to stagger into the refresher, clean up, and grudgingly swallow the medication Corin had provided. By the time he made it back to the bed, Din felt like he'd done a twenty-mile run in Paz's armor. 

Muscles aching, Din flopped back into the welcome softness of the pillows next to the child. He should stay awake until Corin got back, he knew, but the bed was seductively comfortable and sleep was beckoning with irresistible fingers. 

Chirping softly in his ear, the child pressed tiny fingers against Din's chest, and a wave of soothing warmth chased him into dreams. 

* * *

"Hey," whispered a familiar voice. 

Din blinked his eyes open, re-focusing until the view through his helmet fell into something sensible. "Corin?" 

"Mm-hm." The bed dipped as Corin sat down next to him. "You sound better." 

"I feel better." Gone was the pressure in his sinuses, the scratchy throat, the feeling that he was carrying the Armorer's forge on his back. His muscles still felt weaker than he'd like, but time and rest would heal that. "I think the kid did something." 

"I wouldn't be surprised." Corin glanced up, smiling softly at the sleeping child, then returned his attention to Din. "Someone has to take care of you." 

"Didn't you volunteer for that job?" Din asked, partway between tactless and teasing. 

Fortunately, Corin seemed to take it in the way it had been intended. "Yeah, but it's nice to have backup. Right, kid?" 

The child squeaked agreement, apparently not as asleep as Din had thought. Huffing, Din lifted one arm to pull the child in close, then tugged Corin nearer with his free hand. Corin went willingly, snuggling down by Din's side. 

"How long until we have to go out and do the job?" Din asked, his brain slowly coming online even as his body insisted on more rest. 

"Already done. Ran into the guy coming out of a bar, believe it or not. He was so drunk he didn't even fight the carbonite freeze. Guy's going to have one hell of a hangover when he gets thawed." 

"Oh." Din considered that. "No friends who'd try to free him?" 

"None. That guy would have alienated the most placid Mirialan in the galaxy." 

Din thought about that some more. "Oh. Good." 

Corin chuckled. "Go back to sleep. We'll be here when you wake up." 

Yes. That sounded . . . good.


	3. When the Lights Go Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theater AU - Corin's a famous stage actor, but all he wants is to go home to his lighting technician boyfriend Din.

Corin bowed again, leading the rest of the cast as the spotlights picked out the angular planes of his handsome face. The audience were on their feet, whooping and cheering, as they'd done almost every night since _The Child_ had opened seven weeks ago, and Din wanted to be on his feet too. 

Instead, he was up in the control booth, the slides for the lights at his fingertips and wishing it was Corin's skin he was touching instead. 

The cast took one more bow, and Din hit the button to close the curtains a little harder than he needed to. No, sorry audience, you've had your walkdown and your bows, no more theater for you tonight. 

With the curtains closed, Din flipped the main overheads on, the spotlights off, and pressed the switch to bring down the fire safety curtain. His job was mostly over by this point, but he needed to be up here in case of unspecified emergencies. 

The audience trailed out, chattering about this song, or that special effect, or the one dance routine where Corin - as the former 'Stormtrooper' - stripped off his old armor all the way down to his pants. The moment when he pulled off his old skin-tight under-armor top always brought whoops from the crowd, no matter that he almost immediately pulled on a new shirt. 

The door handle rattled behind him, and Din spun in his chair to smile up at his lover. "Hey, beautiful." 

"Hey, love," Corin said in return, his smile almost too bright to belong to a mere human. Corin might be a superb stage actor, but whenever he was with Din, he didn't fake a single thing. "Ready to go?" 

Din let his eyes rake over Corin's body possessively. Yes, the outfits that the Costume Department squeezed Corin into on a daily basis were good, but he liked Corin better like this; jeans and a comfortable t-shirt, leather jacket, motorcycle helmet under his arm, and all Din's. "Nearly, my heart. I need to shut down the computer and then we can go home." 

Corin smiled, a touch of bashful mischief in his eyes. "Tomorrow's a dark day. No shows," he pointed out. "We could . . . take some time for ourselves." 

Din smiled, then reached out a hand to grab his own motorcycle helmet. "I like that idea."


	4. Berry Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Child - and Corin - try ice cream for the first time.

"Oh. Oh, wow, what is this?" Corin asked, his eyes widening as the sample on the tiny spoon slid onto his tongue in a burst of flavor. Unconsciously, he licked his lips, chasing the melted drip that lingered there. A peculiar noise emerged from under Din's helmet. 

"A local specialty," the ice cream vendor said, looking pleased. "Hiiriberry, it grows on the hills around here at this time of year. Would the little one like to try another?" 

Judging by the enthusiastic coo, the child did indeed want to try every type of ice cream in the shop. Din, chuckling under his helmet, accepted the next spoon and fed something that smelled citrus-based into the kid's mouth. 

Eventually, they left, Corin with a hiiriberry cone and the child with an ice-cream nearly as big as its head in about five different flavors. It would be bouncing off the walls - possibly literally - for the next few hours, but that was a small price to pay for how purely happy it was right now. The sun was warm, the breeze off the ocean was fresh, and nobody in the little tourist town had even blinked at the sight of a fully armored Mandalorian. 

"I think that this is the first time he's had ice cream," Din commented, and Corin silently passed him a handkerchief. Din accepted it just as wordlessly and crouched down, using the cloth to mop up a smear of the sweet treat from the child's face. 

"First time I've had it too. I think." Corin frowned, trying to remember. "My dad was pretty big on healthy meals. I don't think I ever remember eating something like this." 

Din paused for a moment, looking up at him, and then seemed to remember where he was as the child toddled off ahead of them. Standing back up, Din resumed his stroll by Corin's side. "I'll remember that. Next time we find one of these places, you'll have to try some more ice cream." 

Too quickly, they were back at the _Razor Crest_. The child seemed temporarily content playing with its toys as the two men secured the ship for takeoff, although Corin did have to duck an airborne tooka plush at one point. 

Only when the child was tucked into Din's old sleeping cubicle and everything was stowed did Din and Corin head up to the cockpit and run the pre-flight checks in their now-familiar dance. Checks done and take-off permission sought and received, the ship leapt for space and the familiarity of hyperdrive. 

Sitting back, Din sighed and pulled off his helmet. It was something he was beginning to do more and more around the child and Corin, ever since the Covert had acknowledged the three of them as family. Mostly, Corin took advantage of those moments to explore his lover's face with eyes and lips. 

It was Din's turn, now, to pull Corin closer and tug him down for the kiss they both wanted. Din hummed pleased surprise into Corin's mouth, his tongue licking against Corin's where it was still cool from the ice cream. Both were reluctant to let go, but eventually Din pulled back. 

"If we ever come here again, I'm going to have a portion of that put in a freezer pack," Din murmured against Corin's parted lips. "You taste so sweet, cyar'ika."


	5. Accidental

Din hissed as Corin pressed exploratory fingers into his arm, the sleeves of his shirt no protection for the tender skin beneath. “Yeah, that’s another one.” 

Corin sat back, frowning. “What were you doing to come back this covered in fresh bruises?”

Din ducked his head and mumbled something Corin could barely hear past the helmet.

“What was that again?” 

“I said,” and the embarrassment in Din’s voice was clear, “that I slipped on some grass and fell down a hill.” 

Corin utterly failed to stop himself from laughing at the mental image of Din rolling down a hillside, clanking all the way.


	6. Paz Fails to Keep a Secret

Safely hidden by his helmet, Din flicked his eyes towards the exit and wondered how soon he could make his excuses. 

Unusually, Din was taking the chance to stay over at the Covert tonight. Most times, he’d be off again on the trail of another bounty, but Karga had told him to wait for tomorrow as he’d heard there might be a good one coming in. If that meant a better payout than penny-ante bail jumpers and smugglers, that would be good.

The evening had started with most of the Covert in the biggest area they had in the sewers, but in the end it had filtered down to him, Paz, and Raga. They’d all drunk perhaps more than was good for them, but few Mandalorians would pass up the chance for a drink in relative safety. 

A tipsy Raga was now leaning on Paz’s shoulder, aggressively pulling her Mando-shaped pillow back into position whenever he dared to move. Paz had clearly given up on going anywhere by this point, and was sucking back ale as if someone had threatened to take it. 

The silence was stifling. 

Just as Din was about to get up and go, Raga’s head skidded forward on Paz’s pauldron, a whistling snore coming from under her helmet. Paz reached up to support her forehead, the gesture surprisingly gentle for such a big man. Ignoring Din completely, Paz worked his arms under his sleeping friend and lifted her with the care he’d afford one of the Foundlings, carrying her quietly out of the room. 

Din sat back with a faint exhale. Well. That explained a lot.


	7. Razor Crest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA Punk Corin.

“Are you sure about this, Din?” Corin held up one of the spray cans dubiously. The outfit he wore, a peculiar mix of leather and lace, bright colors and black, metal pins and bird feathers, felt too tight in some places and too loose in others.

“I’m sure that it has to be you,” Din said definitively, his hands busy in Corin’s hair. “I can’t go, this planet's laws forbid covering your face. And you’ll need to blend in.”

Sighing, Corin surrendered. “And you’re sure this will wash out?”

“Relatively sure,” Din said, picking up the first spray can. “Blue and red stripes, I think.” 

The tiny hand mirror showed Corin’s hair in a very unfamiliar configuration. It was like a vertical crest, front to back, striping in waves of red and blue as Din worked. 

At least Din hadn’t made him get a piercing.


	8. Fear and Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a touch angsty, if you're here for the fluff you may wish to skip it.

The child lifted a hand. 

Screamed. 

And lightning burst from that tiny three-clawed hand, striking lines of blue from Stormtrooper to Stormtrooper. They fell to the ground, writhing in agony, while Din exchanged a horrified look with Corin. No, no, their child was too young to kill, too young to understand what it meant. Din would shoot every one of the Troopers that had ambushed them without regret, but they couldn’t let their son do it. Not like this. 

Stepping forward, Din reached out. A thread of lightning snapped towards his Beskar, twining around his vambraces, and Din stared for a moment before a loud _crack_ sounded and he was thrown back. 

Ow. That reminded him of the Jawas’ shock weapons. 

Through a visor that still glitched with crawling blue light, Din saw Corin step forward. Unarmored and unafraid of the storm that raged around him, confident in his certainty that their child would never willingly harm either of them, Corin walked towards the baby. 

Din saw him kneel, saw him reach out a hand to take the little one’s loose hand in his. Saw the child look around, saw the lightning cease, the crackle replaced with the moan of men in pain. 

Corin picked the tired child up and moved over to Din, offering him a hand up from where he lay on the ground. Bemused, Din took it and let Corin pull him to his feet.

“Come on, ner kar’ta. We’d better go before they recover.” 

Nodding, Din turned towards the _Razor Crest_ without a single backwards glance.


End file.
